


You Passed, Reggie (And We're So Proud of You)

by LuminousMe



Category: Julie and the Phantoms
Genre: 90s, Abusive Parents, Dissociation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I think this can be triggering so be careful okay, Narcisstic Parents, Neglectful Parents, Parent manipulation, Reggie Centric, Reggie has Dyscalculia, Reggie has Neglectful Parents, Soft Boys, Supportive Sunset Curve, sad reggie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousMe/pseuds/LuminousMe
Summary: After an arduous month of study and struggle, Reggie finally passes his math test with a C+. He can't wait to show his dad.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 222





	You Passed, Reggie (And We're So Proud of You)

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asks:
> 
> Whatever you do do not think about Reginald asking Lucas and Alexander "do you guys actually LIKE me?" when he has a particularly bad day.
> 
> -  
> Me, reading this ask: yeah, I mean, I guess that sounds like a pretty okay fic idea–
> 
> Me, tripping, a 2.7k hurt/comfort fic falling from my sleeve: uH don’T LOOK at that i’M just HOLDING iT FOR a fRIend

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and Reggie is in his final class of the day: math. The teacher is handing back graded test papers from the week before.

As the teacher slides his paper onto his desk, Reggie fumbles to flip it over. His eyes dart over the page until he spots the grade in the upper left corner, where, in bright red marker pen, is the letter C.

Reggie blinks and a slow smile begins to grow on his lips as his chest expands. Not _only_ did he manage to get a C on the test, but he realises there’s a plus sign next to the grade.

His leg begins to bounce and he looks up to his teacher, who wears a small smile for him. When she catches his eye, she nods and winks.

_You did it, Reggie._

When the final buzzer signals for the end of class, Reggie doesn’t wait around. He fumbles with his bike lock in the frenzy and pedals through the backstreets and swerves through alleys to get to the beach-front bungalow as fast as possible

He drops his bike into the bushes and tosses his helmet down as he races to the front door, reaching out to throw it open–

Before he pauses and pulls his hand away. He swings his backpack off of one shoulder and pulls out the test paper. 

**C+**

His stomach floods with giddy bubbles and he has to suppress his grin. He doesn’t want to ruin the surprise. So he takes a deep breath, brushes some crumbs from the bottom of his bag off the top of his test paper, and opens the door.

Reggie can feel the tension in the household the moment he steps inside.

He pauses and hears the light _tink_ of a teaspoon against porcelain coming from the kitchen. For a moment, he considers slipping out again, grabbing his bike and pedalling over to Luke’s or Alex’s and taking shelter until they meet at Bobby’s for band practice later. But then he looks down at his test again - not just a C, but a C _plus._

Whatever the argument had been about today, he knows this will make it all better - if not forever, then at least for the rest of the evening. His mom and dad would take one look at the page, throw their arms around him and realise that whatever it was they’d been fighting about, it was inconsequential to the love they had for him - for one another.

He takes another deep breath and pushes forward.

“Mom? Dad?” he calls out. When he enters the kitchen, he finds both of his parents sitting at the breakfast table, surrounded by unfolded paperwork and opened envelopes. His mom holds a teacup near her lips, blowing softly, causing steam to roll off the surface of the opalescent tea. In the chair to her left, with his back to the door, sits his dad, his head heavy in his hands. 

He clears his throat and his mom’s eyes dart toward him.

“Hi,” he says, gently, afraid to break the peace that feels as delicate as eggshells.

“Hi, Reggie,” his mom says, her voice hoarse and tired. She lowers her cup and focuses on the teaspoon that she stirs in her tea. Cl _ink, clink, clink._

He glances to his dad, who still hasn’t acknowledged his presence. He checks the paper in his hands.

C+

He swallows. “Uh, dad?”

“Len,” his mom says to his dad, in a low, chiding voice.

The man lifts his head from his hands and twists first to look at his wife, before turning the whole way to observe his son.

“Reg. You’re home.”

“Yeah,” Reggie says, a nervous chuckle floating out with the word. He holds his returned test paper to his chest.

The man sucks his teeth, before he nods and begins to turn back to the table. Reggie launches himself forward. “Uh, wait, I have something to show you.”

Len raises an eyebrow. His eyes dip to the paper against Reggie’s chest. “Oh?”

After a moment of hesitation, Reggie hands it over. It hovers in the space between them for a moment, before he gestures for his father to take it.

When he does, Reggie clasps his hands together in front of his chest, his whole body buzzing with excitement. He can’t wait to see the look on his dad’s face when he notices the plus sign.

“It’s the test from last week,” he says, unable to contain himself. “We got our grades back today.”

But the man continues to scrutinise the paper with a frown. He flicks through the stapled sheets, pausing every now and again to inspect Reggie’s biro scribbles.

The smile Reggie had hoped to see on his father’s face doesn’t appear and his own shrinks. He drops his hands to his stomach. “It’s a C plus,” Reggie offers.

His father sniffs. “No, I see that.”

Reggie wets his lips, watching the man’s large, calloused fingers brutalise their way through his test paper. He wants it back. He wants it back, now.

“It’s two whole letter grades up from last semester,” he says.

“It’s a pass, Reg.”

“Yeah,” Reggie breathes. “Exactly.”

Len drops the paper onto the table and turns in his chair to glower at his son. “We got you a tutor.”

“I know…”

“Reggie, do you know how much she charged by the hour? Do you know how expensive she was?”

“Well, I –”

He picks up the test paper again. “ _This_ is the best you can do, is it? _This_ is how you say thank you after we shell out hundreds of dollars to help you?”

Reggie’s cheeks flush. “I –”

“What have you been doing this entire time?”

Reggie thinks about the many nights he spent stressing over his math book, saline tears smudging fresh biro as he tried to decipher short division, even when the numbers refused to stay concrete and whole in his mind.

He recalls the look on his tutor’s face when he’d pointed out that they were over their time limit and how she’d continued to talk him through fractions, anyway.

And there are still food stains and coffee spills on the pages of his textbook from where he’d spent his lunch hour with it propped open next to him as he ate in the cafeteria, rejecting Alex and Luke’s invitations to hang out with them in the music room.

He pinches the skin between his fingers. “I studied.”

His father harrumphs and shakes his head. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” he says, but Reggie knows he’s being facetious. “I’m sure you weren’t just messing about with that goddamn band of yours, huh?”

Reggie presses his lips together.

When he doesn’t reply, the man huffs a laugh of disbelief. “That’s great, Reggie, that’s just real great.” He scans over the paperwork on the table and shakes his head, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “We’re struggling to keep this family afloat and you don’t care at all, do you?”

Heat pricks behind his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Oh, great, that’s great, Reg. That’s really going to help us pay the mortgage back, isn’t it?”

Reggie’s body is screaming at him. Run. Run.

_Run._

His dad stands, steps up to him. His eyes trace Reggie’s face, before he crumples the test paper between his hands. He strides over to the trashcan and throws it inside. “Thanks, Reggie. Thank you for this. It’s really brightened my day.”

Reggie is rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the trashcan where his paper now lies. He doesn’t shift his stare when the man sweeps past him and _thump, thump, thumps_ up the stairs. It’s all he can do just to keep breathing.

It’s only when his mom moves that his gaze is pulled towards her.

But she doesn’t return it. Instead, she turns her back on him and walks towards the sink. She rinses out her tea cup and places it on the draining board. She leans against the counter and sighs, before she begins washing the dishes which are piled up on the side. 

After ten seconds, Reggie’s eyelids flutter and he takes a breath. Without a word to the woman at the sink, he crosses the room and digs out his test. He smooths it out against his leg and flicks a cold piece of spaghetti from the corner.

**C+**

He closes his eyes.

And hugs it to his chest.

~

Later, Reggie is hugging himself as he walks to rehearsal.

His body is rigid and his steps are small as he considers the past month.

He could’ve done more, he realises.

He thinks of the long showers he could’ve cut short; time spent with friends that should’ve been dedicated to study; rehearsals that ran twenty minutes late; sleeping for more than six hours a night; Saturday mornings spent in front of the TV.

By the time he reaches the studio, he’s late and the tension in his shoulders is like a dead weight on his back. He can barely breathe and when Luke reprimands him for missing the first ten minutes of rehearsal, he hears himself apologise, but his lips are numb.

“Reg?” Alex says, from afar. “Reggie, you okay, man? You look a little pale - well, paler than usual, anyway.”

“What?” Reggie hears himself say with a hollow laugh. “No, I’m fine.” He throws down his rucksack and picks up his bass. The cool strings beneath his fingers send waves of comfort through him. 

Okay. Okay, he can do this. He can get through the next two hours.

-

Except thirty minutes later, Luke calls the practice to a halt and rounds on him.

“Reggie,” he says and strides closer, his arms out wide. “Reggie, dude, where are you?”

Feeling very lightly tethered to his body at that moment, Luke’s question almost makes him spin out. 

Instead, he just blinks. “What are you talking about?”

Luke’s thick dark eyebrows pull together and his mouth tugs into a petulant pout. “What do you mean, what am I talking about? You’re missing notes, notes that I know you could play in your sleep. Your heart just isn’t in it. What’s up with you today?”

Reggie realises he has nothing to say, just that he has failed someone he loves for the second time that day.

He opens his mouth but it takes a few moments for him to sound out the words.

“You’re right,” he says, eventually. “I’m Sorry. Um,” he scratches his temples and frowns. “Uh, guess I’m just… not really here, today.” He lifts the bass over his head and places it in its stand as the rest of the boys watch. With his hands in his pockets, he pulls his shoulders forward. 

The weight… is _so_ heavy, _so_ distracting.

“I think maybe it would be better if you guys just played without me for tonight,” he says, nodding, but then his bottom lip begins to tremble and he dips his head. “Yeah, I–I don’t wanna hold you back or anything, so…”

But as he turns to go, Luke throws out a hand and catches him by the crook of the elbow. 

“Hey, Reg, wait.”

Reggie stops.

“That’s not what I was saying,” Luke insists, letting his hand slide absently down Reggie’s arm, until he’s holding him by the wrist. “You just seemed so… _sad._ What happened?” And then, after another moment. “Reggie?”

Reggie sucks on his lower lip and rolls his eyes. “Nothing happened. I’m just… I just suck, okay?”

Luke drops his head to one side. “You what?”

“Reggie, what are you talking about?” Alex asks, one eyebrow cocked. He looks at Bobby and Bobby shrugs in return.

“I’m… I’m a bad friend,” he says, casting his eyes down to Luke’s fingers, which hang loosely around his wrist. His face twists as he feels his stomach convulse. “I can’t even play my own instrument right. You should just find a new bassist, one who actually puts effort in and plays when you need him, too. I just _suck_ , okay?”

The final part comes out as a gasp and Reggie’s attempt to cover his face is encumbered when Luke doesn’t let go of his wrist. Instead, he is forced to shield his eyes with just one arm and he grits his teeth in an attempt to stop them from chattering.

He lets out a soft protesting whine as he is drawn in by the wrist and a pair of strong arms wrap around his back. He feels Luke’s chin rest on his shoulder and he hides his face in the crook of the other boy’s neck.

“Okay,” Luke says, stroking the back of his head. “It’s okay, Reg.”

“Please,” Reggie whispers, Luke’s fingertips brushing through his hair sending shivers down his spine.

“I’m here, okay? I’ve got you. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Reggie’s chest hurts. “Please, Luke.”

“Please _what_?” Luke asks softly and Reggie is very aware of the two other boys in the studio and so he is as quiet as possible when he asks Luke not to lie to him.

“Lie?” The softness of his voice is gone and is replaced with bemusement. “Lie about what?”

Reggie hates himself for the personal treason he’s about to commit, but he hates himself more for… other reasons.

“Reggie, what am I lying about?”

Reggie’s entire body is shuddering, but he forces the words out, anyway. He says, “Just don’t pretend to like me. Please.”

Luke’s body becomes rigid and he lifts his head from the bassist’s shoulder. “What?”

As Reggie pulls away, Luke’s arms slip from his back, but hold firmly on his biceps.

“Reggie, I don’t pretend to like you. I _do_ like you.”

There’s a shuffle and Bobby and Alex have stepped out from behind their instruments. “Reggie, do you think we pretend to be your friend?” Alex asks, now at Luke’s shoulder.

Reggie doesn’t answer, just lifts his eyes to the ceiling of their lofted studio. He bites the inside of his cheek.

“Dude, what happened today?” Bobby asks. “Last I saw you was after final period. I called for you, but you seemed like a man on a mission and you were just gone. Was it something at home?”

“Reg, we’re not pretending anything,” Alex says.

“Reggie?” Luke repeats.

He feels pathetic as he glances across the faces of his friends. Luke squeezes his arms, urging him for an explanation to this line of reasoning.

Reggie lets his head hang to one side and he closes his eyes. “I, um, I got my grade back for that test last week.”

When he opens his eyes, the boys look like they’ve just had whiplash, but Bobby is the one to press on, “The math one?”

Reggie nods.

The boys all sag, coming to their own conclusions. 

“Oh. I’m sorry, Reg,” Luke says, clicking his tongue. 

Bobby sighs and kicks his foot. “That really sucks.”

Alex’s eyebrows knit. “Man, you studied so hard, as well. I really thought you were going to pass this time.” Alex reaches out and grazes his knuckles down Reggie’s forearm. “I’m sorry, man.”

But Reggie purses his lips. “Well, no, I actually got a C.”

There’s a silence and when Reggie looks up, he finds that his bandmates are staring at him, wearing long, gaping faces of surprise. 

Luke is the first to start smiling, his tongue poking out between his teeth.

“Dude,” he says, bending at the knees. “You got a C?”

“Yeah?”

“Dude, that’s a pass!”

Reggie huffs, rolling his shoulders forward. “Barely…”

“Who cares? You passed. You passed!” Luke throws up his hands and lets out a loud “Whoo!” Suddenly, he crouches and wraps his arms around Reggie’s legs, before thrusting him up into the air with enthusiasm. Reggie is forced to grab his shoulders to stop himself from falling backwards, but the momentum of Luke’s excitement elicits a smile of surprise from him, all the same. 

“You did it, Reg!”

And Reggie is surprised again to find himself laughing as Luke spins him around. When he drops him down, he is quick to brings him in for another hug, giving him a firm pat on the back. 

“Congrats, man,” Alex says, when Luke finally releases him. He puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a small shake. “I’m proud of you.”

“Hard work really does pay off, huh?” Bobby says, folding his arms.

Reggie sniffs and chuckles. “I, uh, actually got a C plus.”

“Wait, what?” Luke asks, his smile somehow growing even wider, causing a humming bird to take flight in Reggie’s chest. “You got a C _plus_?”

Reggie shrugs and then nods, clasping his hands together at his chest again. “Yeah,” he says, with a crooked grin. “I was only two marks off of a B.”

And now it’s Luke’s turn to throw his hands over his face, before scraping them up through his hair. He can barely contain himself and he launches himself at Reggie, grabbing his face and planting a big, wet kiss on his cheek.

“You smart bastard!” Luke says, before clapping his hands together and doing a turn about the studio. “That’s it. We’re done here. Everybody, grab your shit. We’re going out to celebrate. All hail the smart man.”

As he watches his friends pack away their instruments around him, pitted with the occasionally bit of bicker and physical jostling, Reggie finds himself overwhelmed by the love in the room. He thinks that he would like to stay with this boys forever.

He swallows the thick knot in his throat and laughs.

_Yes, he did it.  
_

**Author's Note:**

> Chat to me on Tumblr: @soemthingsparkly <3


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